but that's part o' what he did to me. I never knowed much
about him afore, but he's sure some scrapper; an' I had a knife in my
fist, too."

"Then--then," her breath choking her, "he got away?"

Moore laughed, no evidence of animosity in his actions.

"I reckon so, miss. I ain't seen nuthin' of him since, an' the way
Bill Lacy wus cussing when I got breathin' straight agin would 'a'
shocked a coyote. He'll git him, though."

"Get him?"

"Sure--Bill will. He always gets his man. I've seen more'n one fellow
try to put something over on Lacy, but it never worked in the end.
He's hell on the trigger, an' the next time he and Bill come together,
Westcott's bound to get his. Ain't that the truth, Joe?"

Sikes nodded his head, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes.

"I'd like fer to see the scrap," he said slowly. "They tell me
Westcott ain't so slow on the draw--but Bill will get him!"

The sun rose a red ball of fire, colouring the ridges of sand, and
painting the grotesque rocks with crimson streamers. As it ascended
higher into the pale blue of the sky the heat-waves began to sweep
across the sandy waste. In the shadow of a bald cliff the wagon was
halted briefly, and the two men brought forth materials from within,
making a hasty fire, and preparing breakfast. Water was given the team
also, before the journey was resumed; while during the brief halt the
girl was left to do as she pleased. Then they moved on again,
surrounded by the same drear landscape, the very depression of it
keeping them silent. Sikes nodded sleepily, his head against a wagon
bow. Once Moore roused up, pointing into the distance with one hand.

"What do yer make o' that out thar?" he asked sharply. "'Tain't a
human, is it?"

Sikes straightened up with a start, and stared blankly in the direction
indicated. Apparently he could perceive nothing clearly, for he
reached back into the wagon-box, and drew forth a battered field-glass,
quickly adjusting it to his eyes. Stella's keener vision made out a
black, indistinct figure moving against the yellow background of a far
away sand-ridge, and she stood up, clinging to Moore's seat, to gain a
better view. Sikes got the object in focus.

"Nothin' doing," he announced. "It's travellin' on four legs--a b'ar,
likely, although I never afore heard of a b'ar being in yere."

They settled down to the same monotony, mile after mile. The way
became rockier with less sand, but with no more